


Prince Snow White

by lunadesangre



Series: Oz's Twilight Zone [1]
Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: AU, Dark Fairytale Crack, M/M, Oz Magi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:11:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunadesangre/pseuds/lunadesangre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“My Regent King, you are fair, ‘tis true, but Ryan is fairer far than you.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prince Snow White

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozsaur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozsaur/gifts).



> Wish #13, Request 2 of the 2012 Oz Magi.  
> Pairing/Character(s): Any!  
> Keyword/Prompt Phrase: Fairy tale!  
> Canon/AU/Either: Either  
> Special Requests: Tell me a story -- I love traditional fairy tales. I'm looking more for the feel of a fairy tale, so a modern or alternative setting (Steampunk, for example) is fine with me. Little Red Riding Hood and Beauty and the Beast (not the Disney version!) are favorites if you want direction. I'd be very pleased if a rare fairy tale was used, if you choose. I also love when a fairy tale is turned upside down -- make Red Riding Hood the bad guy! I'm open to anything here.  
> Story/Art/Either: Story or Artwork -- except icons. I just don't have the space. Some kind of cover art or poster would be fabulous.

_Once upon a time, in the middle of winter when the snow-flakes were falling like feathers on the earth, a Queen sat at a window framed in black ebony and sewed. And as she sewed and gazed out to the white landscape, she pricked her finger with the needle, and three drops of blood fell on the snow outside, and because the red showed out so well against the white she thought to herself: “Oh! What wouldn’t I give to have a child as white as snow, as red as blood, and as black as ebony!”_

And her wish was granted. Well, sort of. She got a _child_ , but not – as she had subconsciously also wished – a girl, but _a boy_. Granted, he was a really beautiful baby boy, and very pale, and if his hair wasn’t black, at least it was dark. He didn’t have red lips or cheeks, but the Queen figured it probably would have been weird for a baby boy, and she loved him instantly anyway.

However, she wasn’t mad enough to not realize naming a boy _Snow White_ would do very bad things to his psyche, so since he was, after all, destined to be the King of the Emerald Kingdom someday, she named him _Ryan_ instead.

Ryan was a very sweet baby boy, and the Queen loved him dearly. The King, however, really didn’t give a shit, and things between him and the Queen became so dire that barely three months after little Ryan’s birth, his mother disappeared. The King got so fed up with the burden of the Kingdom, with all its complaining peasants, plotting court, disobedient guards, and the Infant Prince’s wailing, that he took all the Kingdom’s money and ran off with his mistress, leaving the Kingdom bankrupt and little Ryan basically an orphan.

One of the nobles, Tim McManus, became the Regent, pledging to save the Kingdom and lead it until Ryan reached his majority. The little Prince was settled in a tower with a nurse, carefully looked after and brought up, while Regent McManus rearranged the Kingdom’s affairs.

Ryan grew up into a very beautiful child. His skin was really pale and fair, his hair fell in dark wavy locks, and he developed very early a habit of biting his lips, so while he didn’t have lips as red as blood like his mother had wished, they were often reddish anyway, and people still tended to stare at them. He also had a very sweet smile, or an overwhelmingly brilliant one that seemed to lighten any room he was in, and everyone who met him was besotted with him.

Regent McManus tried his best to do what was right; he got the Kingdom back on its feet and made sure the Little Prince wasn’t lacking anything. But he was at heart a very vain man, and nothing pleased him more than every woman he met falling heads over heels to get in bed with him. He had three favorites, who were so in love with him they always told him the truth: Gloria, Diane and Claire. He would always ask them who was the most attractive man in the kingdom, and they would always answer it was him. And he was very happy, because he knew he had them so charmed they couldn’t lie to him.

But Ryan was getting more and more attractive, and all the women McManus had filled the castle with fawned more and more over him. He had a way of wrapping them all around his little finger without even trying, of making them do what he wanted them to without even asking, without them even realizing they were being manipulated. As he reached his teens, he started stealing the Regent’s women, sometimes even making conquests before McManus could.

Until finally, right before Ryan reached his majority, the Regent asked his favorites the same question he always asked: “Women, women lying there, who in all the land is most fair?”

And this time, the answer was different: “My Regent King, you are fair, ‘tis true, but Ryan is fairer far than you.”

And the Regent flew into such a rage that he called his oldest friend and most trusted guard, Sean Murphy, and ordered him to take Ryan into the forest, kill him, and bring back his lungs and liver as proof.

Sean Murphy was one of the few men still living in the castle, but that hadn’t stopped him from noticing Ryan’s beauty and grace. So the order shocked and chagrined him, but Regent McManus was his dearest friend, and as a guard, he was sworn to obey, so he reluctantly led Ryan into the forest, claiming he had been ordered to teach him how to hunt.

The fact that he didn’t give Ryan a weapon might have been slightly suspicious, but even though Ryan was as clever as he was beautiful, he had no reasons whatsoever to doubt Murphy’s words and was so delighted to go outside the Royal Palace for the first time that he didn’t ask questions.

Murphy led him deep enough in the forest that no one could possibly hear a scream, but when he grasped his crossbow to raise it to Ryan’s heart and kill him, Ryan turned from his examination of _everything_ to face him, suddenly staring right into Murphy’s eyes, smile dying, disappointed, betrayed – but not afraid. Quiet and still. And Murphy knew he couldn’t do it.

He let the crossbow fall, and ran a hand gently down Ryan’s cheek, only letting the tip of his thumb brush Ryan’s reddened lower lip, and still Ryan didn’t flinch. On the contrary, he got closer, close enough that Murphy could have kissed him if he dared, and whispered against Murphy’s lips: “Tell him I’m dead.” And when Murphy, stuttering at the proximity, explained about the lungs and liver, Ryan told him to kill a deer and bring the deer’s organs back to McManus.

Then, before Murphy could throw him against a tree to ravage those temptingly reddened lips, Ryan stole Murphy’s dagger and pouch, turned, and disappeared into the forest.

He had read a lot of travel books, trapped in his tower while growing up, so after he had put enough distance between himself and Murphy, he looked at the moss on the trees’ bark to orient himself and went south, away from the castle. A plan was forming in his head: the Emerald Kingdom was an island, and it was mostly at peace with the Kingdoms of the continent, but Ryan was certain once he reached one, he would be able to break that peace and bring about the Regent’s demise, one way or another, and reclaim his Kingdom.

But for that, he would first need to embark on a ship off the island, and it wouldn’t be a good idea for that ship to be of his Kingdom, in case McManus realized he had been deceived and had Ryan hunted down. So, since he had heard merchants and fishing ships of the Golden Kingdom often moored in the Emerald Kingdom’s southern ports, he headed in that direction. Of all the Kingdoms on the continent, the Golden Kingdom had the reputation of being the warmest, and in the damp and cold forest it sounded like a really nice destination to Ryan. It was also rumored to be quite powerful, and Ryan was sure he could find allies there.

He walked until it got too dark to see, and slept completely exhausted and in a very foul mood under a slightly-less-damp dead spooky tree, having cursed the Regent to hell half a million times. He had pleasant dreams of roasting a screaming McManus like a chicken, until something tried to nibble his fingers and woke him up. It turned out to be a cute fluffy rabbit, too curious for its own good, that Ryan decided to name Breakfast.

In the drippy, gloomy morning, nothing agreed to catch on fire, no matter how many times Ryan tried, but he was so hungry that Breakfast was delicious anyway. When he was finished, he wiped the blood off his lips and chin with the back of his sleeve, shook the cold, heavy dew from his cloak, and continued going south.

After three days of walking, sleeping huddled under trees and feeding on imprudent small animals, he finally reached a trail, which he followed to a meadow, where a small wooden house laid. By then Ryan was cold, wet, hungry, and immensely pissed off at the entire world – he had sworn to himself to get revenge on McManus the Usurper about a thousand times per day. He knocked, called, and when nobody answered, he tried opening the door, finding it unlocked. Since he was, after all, the Prince of the Emerald Kingdom, he went inside and started poking around in the empty house.

There was food – cold unidentifiable squishy nuggets that might have been fish, chicken or human, and stale bread and burnt mashed potatoes – and it was all disgusting, but he was so hungry it didn’t matter. He wolfed everything down, and kept poking around until he found an half-full bottle of whiskey. It warmed him right up, got the taste of the squishy things out of his mouth, and put him in a slightly better mood, so he kept drinking until it was completely empty. Of course, then he was feeling quite drowsy, so he climbed up the narrow staircase and collapsed in the first bed he saw.

He woke up to the feeling of being watched – and sure enough there was people around him, looking at him with wide eyes. Seven of them to be exact, all around Ryan’s age – and looking at him like they’d never seen anything quite like him before and were afraid he might somehow vanish in a puff of smoke.

Ryan got up, dusted himself off, combed back his hair with his fingers – trying not to grimace at the fact that it _really_ needed a wash – and with his best charming smile, thanked them for their hospitality. He _had_ been raised to be polite after all – and he had noticed people were easier to manipulate when he showed them respect.

He was about to give them a golden coin from Murphy’s purse and be on his way, when the tallest redhead answered “It’s an honor, your majesty,” and they all bowed to him.

Since he hadn’t said who he was, Ryan stared for a second. He had been kept within the castle walls all his life, so none of his subjects knew his face – but even the dumbest person in the Kingdom knew the Royal Clan’s embroideries, and they were all over Ryan’s cloak, in golden swirls and knots over the dark green velvet than the dirt couldn’t hide. So he sighed and formally introduced himself.

They all hurried to respond with their own names, and he gathered from their enthusiastic, sudden babbling that McManus had told the whole Kingdom their Prince was dead, and everyone was in mourning. It would only be a matter of time before the Regent had himself elected King, as there was no one else to lead, and a great many people – like Ryan’s seven hosts – were even more saddened by this, as the Regent was far more interested in women than in the prosperity of the Kingdom.

Seething at what he was hearing, even though it was what he had guessed would occur, Ryan told them what had happened to him, and they insisted he stayed in their little house a few days to rest, while they found him a horse and regular clothes so he would reach the southern shore safely. They absolutely refused to be paid for their services though, and only asked that, when Ryan became King, he remembered them.

They regretted not being able to go with him, but they worked in the gold mines of the nearby mountain according to the Regent’s orders, and were counted there regularly. If they were absent more than a day, they would be missed, and hunted down, and would cause Ryan trouble – he stood a far better chance of reaching the Golden Kingdom unnoticed on his own.

Still, Ryan accepted their help graciously, and offered, while he was there, to do the cooking himself. He had seen the castle’s cooks at work quite a few times when he went to the kitchens to steal fruits and chocolate, and having tasted his hosts’ cooking the night before, he was of the strong opinion that whatever he managed to produce couldn’t possibly taste as bad. And indeed, it didn’t. It was even quite good, comparatively.

In the meantime, McManus had gotten bored, and failing to find new women to seduce one evening, he had tried to bed Sean Murphy – who hadn’t seemed particularly enthusiastic with the privilege. Irked, the Regent had gotten him very, _very_ drunk the next day to get his way – and Murphy, in the middle of it all, had called him _Ryan_.

To say the Regent had been pissed would be the worst understatement that ever saw the light of day since the dawn of time.

To say that Murphy lived to tell the tale would be quite an untrue statement also. The Regent could make truth serums – or rather, Gloria could make truth serums, but McManus had her so in love with him she did everything he asked. Poor Murphy didn’t have a chance: Claire pinned him down and force-fed him the serum, and though he tried to resist, his mouth betrayed him and he told the Regent the truth – that the lungs and liver McManus had eaten were not Ryan’s but a deer, and that the Prince had escaped into the forest. McManus promptly had him executed for high treason.

Even the sight of Murphy’s traitorous body swinging in the wind by its broken neck did nothing to sooth the overwhelming rage that had taken over the Regent at the news that the Kingdom’s legitimate, too beautiful Prince was still alive – especially since he now knew said Prince’s beauty had caused even his oldest friend to turn against him. He vowed to himself he would see Ryan dead, even if that was the last thing he himself saw.

And he plotted. Diane’s crystal ball showed him where Ryan was, and, not trusting anyone else to do the deed for him after Murphy’s deception, McManus rode his horse to near the small wooden house and disguised himself as an old woman. He took Claire with him for protection though, in case something attacked him in the woods, and told her to wait hidden in the trees, so Ryan didn’t see her. Then he walked to the house and knocked on the door.

And failing to get an answer, he knocked again, harder – and again, even more loudly.

Ryan, who had been taking a nap upstairs, grouchily woke up, stomped to the small window and threw it opened. “ _What_?” he asked in a pissed off tone.

McManus held up some gay colored silky lace and spoke in a weak, scratchy voice. “Fine wares to sell! Lace of every shade and description!”

Ryan stared at the bright pink lace in revulsion, wondering for a second if he was still asleep and having a nightmare. “Not interested,” he answered coldly. “Go away.”

And he went to close the window, but the old woman yelled: “Wait!”

“What now?” asked Ryan, leaning out the window again. “I _told_ you –”

“Good gracious, child, what a figure you’ve got!” rambled McManus in despair. “Come! I’ll lace you properly for once.” And he made motions with his hands as if lacing a corset.

Struck speechless, Ryan stared for a few seconds, then as he was _not_ , had _never_ , and _would never_ wear a corset, exploded: “Do I _look_ like a girl? Go away you mad old hag, before I throw something at your ugly face!”

“But –” stuttered McManus, seeing his perfectly good plan to permanently impede Ryan’s breathing with his fine lace crumble before him.

“ _Go. Away._ ” growled Ryan, and he threw a chamberpot at the mad old hag to emphasize his point, slammed the window shut and went back to sleep.

Thus died McManus’ Plan A. Positively fuming in anger – the chamber pot had thankfully been empty, but that fact barely softened the gigantic blow to the Regent’s pride –, he went back to Claire and his horse to get Plan B.

Plan B was a poisonous comb, which he dearly hope to stick into Ryan’s hair – or Ryan’s neck.

McManus had always been jealous of Ryan’s hair, and having seen the state it was currently in, mentally congratulated himself for his genius as he went back to the house disguised as another old woman. The stupidly beautiful, intensely annoying brat _needed_ a comb, and therefore this could not fail.

But it did. The comb was intricately ornate and very shiny, and McManus held it up high for Ryan to see once he got him to open the window again. Unfortunately, the brat was in a _very_ bad mood, and not only did he not want the comb, he also didn’t take kindly to McManus’ offer to comb his hair. He yelled “Go away, you creepy old woman!” and threw another chamber pot at McManus’ face.

This one was not empty.

 _Livid_ , McManus went back to Claire. He was trembling with rage so much she didn’t dare laugh, and hurried the horses back to the castle so he could take a bath. He vociferated the whole way.

After his seventh bath, McManus had Plan C. It was absolutely perfect. Infallible. He sent Diane and Claire find the most perfect apple they could, and had Gloria make the deadliest poison, which he then soaked the apple into for the entire night. And in the morning, he set off for the little house in the woods again with his poisoned apple and a basketful of not-poisonous ones, escorted by Claire. As before, she waited behind the last trees with the horses while McManus disguised himself. This time he took the appearance of a peasant woman, then took the basket of apples, carefully placed the poisonous one on top, and walked to the little house.

Ryan didn’t answer the door right away this time either, but unlike the other two times, the sight of the goods mollified him. The apples were beautifully red and shiny, very full and juicy looking – and Ryan was hungry. He was tired of potatoes, and he liked fruits. So he opened the door, and happily started bargaining the apples with the peasant woman.

McManus, inwardly jubilating that his plan was working, handed him the poisoned apple, under the pretense of making him taste how delicious the apples were to convince him they were worth more than what Ryan was offering.

Ryan took it, bit it, chewed, swallowed – and did _not_ drop dead.

McManus stared dumbfounded at the rapidly diminishing apple in Ryan’s hands, then, realizing he must have handed Ryan a good one instead of the poisoned one, at the basket in his hands, trying to find the apple that would bring about the end of his troubles – but they all looked the same, and he truly had no idea which of all the apples was the one he had poisoned.

To add insult to injury, Ryan, apparently taking pity on the poor, near catatonic peasant woman like a good Prince is supposed to, offered him more for the apples than they were worth, putting the coins in McManus’ hand in exchange for the basket, then closing and locking the door.

Since McManus could not just wait and _hope_ Ryan would bite the poisonous apple _eventually_ – and take the risk someone else might bite it and die, therefore sparing Ryan and causing him to be perpetually on his guard and so ready to escape unscathed any other attempt on his life –, the Regent hurried back to Claire and his horse and spontaneously came up with Plan D: sick Claire on the brat.

Delighted with her task, she charged through the door, easily wrestled Ryan to the floor, and sat on his face until he passed out dead.

McManus threw all the apples into the fire to be sure the poisoned one couldn’t be linked back to him, and gloated all the way back to the castle, while Claire preened in pleasure.

Later in the day, when the seven miners came back and found Ryan dead, they were utterly heartbroken. They tried their best to revive him, but to no avail. So they sent one of them into town to gather supplies to honor their dead while they wept. When he came back, they bathed Ryan in scented oils, dressed him in the finest cloths, and laid him in a funeral chamber made of stones that their long-gone ancestors had built. It was on top of a nearby hill, and had beautiful curvy carvings. As was the custom for royalty, they placed scented flowers and offerings of food and beautiful, delicately carved jewelry and weaponry with him, so that he would be recognized as a Prince in the afterlife. But he looked so beautiful, lying there in the torchlight, so alive, as if he could awaken any second – even though he was not asleep – that they could not bear to seal the chamber shut. Instead they took turns guarding him, one of them making sure no one and nothing disturbed their Prince’s rest while the others worked.

A few days later, Liam was on guard duty, but at some point he really needed to take a pee, and because he didn’t want to do that in the vicinity of the chamber, he went all the way down the hill. And so Ryan’s resting place was left unguarded when Prince Miguel of the Golden Kingdom came upon it with his servant from the other side of the hill.

Prince Miguel had been betrothed since birth to the daughter of a cousin of his father’s, a princess called Alonza that Miguel was sure must be a man dressed in woman clothes, or possibly a frog, or a hag – he was _not_ going to kiss her to find out. She was extremely creepy, and Miguel had chosen running away over marrying her. He had travelled north until he had reached the ocean, and having dreamt of a white tower calling to him from across the waters, had decided to embark for the Emerald Island. He had vague hopes of finding a beautiful princess to marry, so he could show her to his father and not be forced to marry Alonza the hag – for he knew he would have to return to his duties one day, lest the Golden Kingdom fell into anarchy when his father died.

He had picked up, during his travels, a strange man named Groves that had proclaimed himself his servant after Miguel had more or less accidentally saved his life, and who now followed him everywhere. Groves was very, very strange, and rather disturbing, but he was very entertaining – though he really didn’t try to be. Miguel found him amusing, and rather appreciated the company – that is, when Groves was _not_ indulging his freaky necrophiliac cannibalistic penchants.

In the present situation, Groves certainly was not restraining himself. Drawn, Miguel was sure, by the scent of death and decay – even though all Miguel could smell was flowers – Groves climbed up the hill and went straight for the entrance of the funeral chamber.

“No,” Prince Miguel hissed, “Groves, get back here!”

But Groves was already inside. “But he looks good enough to eat,” came the whine from within the chamber, “and there’s food for you too.”

Utterly exasperated and already getting goosebumps at the thought of what he was going to see, Miguel dismounted, tied his horse to a tree, climbed up as well and entered, determined to drag his mad servant back out before he started chewing on a poor dead guy.

He was not prepared for said poor dead guy to be absolutely not decomposed – and the most beautiful sight he ever had the privilege to set his eyes upon in his entire life. It was, in fact, like even Death had become so enamored with his beauty that it was afraid to touch him.

Groves, however, was not. He was as entranced as Miguel was – but for a completely different reason. While Miguel was starring, in awe, and reverently reaching a hand to brush a silky-looking lock of dark hair off a pale cheek, Groves was salivating. Out of Miguel’s sight, he bent down and grabbed a hand, almost moaning at the lack of rigor mortis – Groves always found supple, soft flesh delicious to tear open with his teeth –, caught the little finger in his mouth and sunk his teeth into it with the intention of finishing his meal as fast as possible.

And the dead guy _yelled_.

In the following three seconds, it was complete chaos: Groves spit out the finger and continued spitting, murmuring in disgust “It’saliveit’salive” over and over again, the not-so-dead guy scrambled away from him yelling profanities and kicking him in his haste to get away, while Miguel gaped at the scene, completely shocked. The guy quickly ran out of stone to scramble on and bumped against Miguel’s body, who instinctively caught him in his arms to stop him from toppling over.

He was immediately caught by – he was sure – the most beautiful pair of green eyes in the entire world.

“And who,” asked Ryan icily – pissed, groggy and freaked out, not to mention disgusted that _someone had tried to eat him_ – “might _you_ be?”

“Miguel,” was the breathless answer, “Prince Miguel of the Golden Kingdom.” And so taken was he by Ryan’s beauty that he added, without even stopping to think or breathe: “I love you better than anyone in the whole wide world. Will you come with me to my father's palace and be my wife?”

And though Ryan didn’t appreciate the _wife_ part of the proposal, he was not a fool, and he saw the opportunity in 0.1 seconds flat. So he gave Miguel his most bewitching smile, slid his hands around Miguel’s neck, and seductively agreed to become Miguel’s _consort_.

Delighted, Miguel kissed him very thoroughly, and when they broke apart for air, he finally remembered to ask Ryan his name. So Ryan told him his sad story, and Miguel was so outraged to hear all that his new betrothed had been through because of McManus the Usurper that he vowed he would do everything in his power to give Ryan’s Kingdom back to him. Ryan gladly kissed him again in thanks, as it was exactly what he wanted – and also because as far as future husbands went, Miguel was very easy on the eyes, so Ryan certainly did not mind kissing him.

Liam the miner soon arrived, completely out of breath from having ran up the hill, alarmed by the yell he had heard, and he was very shocked and delighted to find Ryan alive. Ryan told him what had happened – and would happen – while Miguel dragged Groves outside the chamber and tried to get him to stop spitting, and Liam then ran to meet the other miners on their way back from work to share the good news with them. They all hurried to the hill to wish their Prince a safe journey to the Golden Kingdom, and most of all, a safe and successful return. Ryan settled behind Miguel on the horse, and off then went, Groves running behind them.

They arrived to one of the Emerald Kingdom’s southern ports without trouble, where Miguel quickly found one of his Kingdom’s ships to take them across the sea, and so they sailed to the Golden Kingdom, reaching its northern shore a few days later. There they encountered a poor priest who agreed to wed them, and it was therefore as a married couple that they entered the Golden Kingdom’s castle seven days later.

The King, however, was not happy to see them. He was a small, very ugly, bitter man, and had only ever felt contempt towards his only son. That Miguel had defied him by refusing to marry the bride he had chosen for him, ran away, and had the audacity to come back married to a man – even if it was a Prince – certainly did nothing to endear his son to him. While most of the court – with the exception of Miguel's rejected fiancée Alonza, who was heartbroken and exiled herself – was delighted that their Prince had come back, and with such a beautiful consort, King Raoul greeted them disdainfully, and from then on never failed to find an opportunity to humiliate his son whenever the court couldn’t hear – and after he had found out the whole story from an indignated Miguel, Ryan as well. He could not, however, officially send them away or separate them, as they were legally married and Miguel was the Kingdom’s only heir, much to his displeasure.

Miguel was enraged and distressed by his father’s treatment, even more so when he tried to disgrace Ryan, and almost attacked him quite a few times before Ryan could stop him. Ryan hated their situation as well, but for his plan of regaining his Kingdom to succeed, he could not afford Miguel being exiled or executed for having chopped off his father’s head in front of the entire court. Miguel had to be King, and so the King needed to die, but it had to be more subtle.

It didn’t take him long to come up with a plan, and it was a testament to how badly the King was treating them that Miguel readily agreed to follow it, so long and painful was going to be the King’s death. They went into the kitchen, and while Miguel distracted the cooks, Ryan put ground glass into the King’s plate. They did this over and over again, until the King bled from every orifice in his body and died. And if any of the cooks suspected them, they kept quiet – the King had been so odious to the castle servants that they were all glad to see Miguel crowned instead.

The day after he had been crowned King, as he had promised Ryan, Miguel marched his army towards the Emerald Kingdom, with Ryan at his side. They sailed across the sea, landed on the southern shores, and encountered very little resistance: as soon as the inhabitants of the Emerald Kingdom saw Ryan, they recognized he was their Prince – for news of his beauty had spread all over the Kingdom – and welcomed him and his husband’s army gladly, so grieved had they been of his disappearance.

When they reached the Royal Castle, however, they found that McManus the Usurper had retreated inside, locked the gates, and ordered everyone to resist the invaders.

The castle was so strongly built and so well guarded that taking it by force would have been an impossible task. There was, however, secret passageways leading into it – one of which was known only to the Royal Family and their most trusted servants. Ryan had learnt of its existence from his nurse when he was a child – though he had never taken it, as it started from the Royal Chambers McManus occupied – but the Usurper knew nothing of it. It was therefore unguarded, and Ryan led Miguel and his men through it, into the castle.

They emerged unnoticed, and in a very short time, had captured all the rebels and secured the location. Miguel had his men put all the prisoners into the main hall, so that Ryan could address them and see which ones were still loyal to him. Amongst them was the Usurper and his favorites, who had all hid amidst the crowd when Miguel’s soldiers had taken over the castle by surprise.

When he saw Ryan, McManus launched himself at his throat with a dagger – but Miguel, at Ryan’s side, had him sprawled at their feet, disarmed and with the tip of Miguel’s sword pressed against McManus’ own throat before anyone had time to blink. Claire, Diane and even Gloria each grabbed a weapon and also tried to kill Ryan at McManus’ howled order, but Miguel and his guards were swift and merciless, and all three were soon dead, leaving McManus besides himself with rage and mortification in the solid grasp of Miguel’s men.

“Well then,” Miguel asked Ryan while looking at McManus, an arm around Ryan’s waist, “what do you want to do with him, baby?”

And Ryan smiled. “I think,” he said with the purring tone of a vindictive cat finally getting his revenge on a much hated dog, “that I would like to see him dance.”

That night, as Ryan’s people celebrated the return of their Prince and started making preparations to crown him King the very next day, so glad were they to have him back, and Miguel’s army celebrated their victory, feasting on the Emerald Kingdom’s famous bubbly alcohol and dancing with Ryan’s people, a peculiar spectacle could be seen in the castle’s courtyard: that of the defeated Usurper, madly tap-dancing in red-hot iron shoes. The music, yells and laughs of the gatherings covered his screams, and the soldiers, with their swords, pushed him back toward the center of the courtyard every time he tried to escape, and forced him to remain standing every time he looked like he was going to collapse, so that he was forced to dance until he fell down dead.

Ryan, watching the show from the Royal Balcony with Miguel leaving love bites on his neck, grinned in satisfaction, finally avenged. He then pulled his husband inside his new chambers to break in their brand new bed – gift of the court, as they had burnt McManus’ furniture – and they celebrated in private.

No one slept that night, so great was everyone’s joy. In the morning, Ryan was crowned King, and the Emerald Kingdom became united with the Golden Kingdom. The revels lasted a year and a day, in both lands.

The seven men of the little house in the woods came to live in the castle, as did Miguel’s servant Groves – though Ryan wasn’t particularly happy about that last part, considering he still found Groves to be very creepy. Nonetheless, they all got along and helped, each in their own small way, King Ryan and King Miguel bring peace and prosperity to their Kingdoms.

And they all lived happily ever after – although Ryan and Miguel eventually had to face the problem of producing an heir, but that is another story.


End file.
